


Sparkling Bears and the Mafia

by ScottieIsImpatient



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Everyone is high, Hallucinations, Minor Violence, Swearing, author is not a scientist and pretty much made shit up, crackfic, crackfic that turned into a genfic, genfic, like an itty bitty piece of tuckerreed, water-based pathogen because scifi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScottieIsImpatient/pseuds/ScottieIsImpatient
Summary: That's it. That's the book.Ok, fine. Shore leave on a lush planet seems to be going well until T'Pol discovers the water contains a hallucinogenic pathogen.Trip thinks he's a detective hunting down the mafia, Malcolm is convinced the trees are talking to him, Travis won't stop ranting about sparkling bears, Cutler insists science is a myth, and Crewman Fisher is... angry. Ensign Lia Meng is the only one in her group unaffected, and has to keep the rest of them in check until Phlox can come down.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as an absolute crackfic but then I gave it a storyline and now it's just like a regular Star Trek episode. My original character, Ensign Lia Meng, is most of this fic's POV (3rd person). However, I should probably mention that the POV changes like six times, so be warned.

**Jonathan Archer, 3:56pm**

In hindsight, Archer probably should have suspected right away that something was off. When Trip called in, his voice was laced with a suspicion Archer was unaccustomed to hearing from his chief engineer. “We’re all good here, Cap’n,” Trip had said. “Everythin’s… goin’ great.”

The hesitation should have thrown him off. The Captain should have asked for an immediate scan of the planet’s surface and his crew’s biosigns. Instead, Archer had said, “sounds good”, and terminated the communication. Like an idiot.

“I should be down there,” Archer said for the fourth time as he paced around the bridge. T’Pol watched him with an arched eyebrow. “You were not selected for shore leave, Captain.”

“Protecting the crew is still my responsibility.”

“You could not have foreseen these circumstances.” As usual, T’Pol’s voice was deliberate and calm. “It is illogical-”

“I _know,_ ” Archer snapped. T’Pol did not look the least bit phased at his outburst, but he apologized anyway. “Sorry. I’m just a little anxious.”

“By my and Ensign Hart’s scans,” the Vulcan officer went on, “the substance is not dangerous. You do not need to worry yourself for the crew’s safety.”

“And you’re sure it’s only in the water?”

“Positive.”

Archer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Preform a scan on the shore leave crew. Have anyone who has _not_ been in contact with the water transported up at the earliest possible convenience. We don’t know if this thing is airborne or not.”

“It is only a water-based pathogen,” T’Pol stated, “and cannot be transferred between individuals. Only those who have been in direct contact with the planet’s water will be affected.”

Archer gave her an expectant look.

“But I will proceed to preform scans and contact those who are unaffected.”

“And transport them up,” Archer reminded her.

Had she been human, T’Pol would have sighed in annoyance. “Yes, Captain. We will transport them up.”

At communications, a hint of a smile broke through Hoshi’s worried expression.

**Lia Meng, 4:05pm**

Ensign Lia Meng closed her communicator with a snap. _Thank god I fell asleep,_ she thought, glancing out at the cool and inviting blue water. Indeed, it looked very tempting. She’d meant to go for a swim later in the evening.

Looked like that wasn’t happening.

She quickly scanned the campsite for any sign of her shore leave group. Their mobile chairs still stood where she’d last seen them; drinks abandoned in the cup holders. Liz Cutler’s sunhat lay on the grass a few metres away.

Meng rose to her feet and used one hand to shield her eyes from the suns. There were two in this planetary system, and both produced an equal amount of light to the one at home. Meng didn’t know why she had trouble adjusting- perhaps being on a starship in artificial lighting for too long had affected her vision.

“Hello?” Meng called into the open area. “Commander? Lieutenant?”

The light breeze was her only response. Meng’s hand clutched her communicator tightly and she debated whether or not to page the Captain again, though he probably had a lot on his plate at the moment. Besides, if she ever wanted to be a senior officer, she’d have to prove herself.

“Liz?” she tried, hoping the use of Crewman Cutler’s first name would draw more attention. Unfortunately, it did nothing. Meng huffed in frustration and did a slow turn. Except for her, there appeared to be no one else at their campsite. Fear began well up in her chest. The database _had_ mentioned wild animals, but they were supposed to be miles from here! What if they’d all gotten dragged off all the while she’d been sleeping peacefully?

Meng was about to chastise herself for letting her anxiety grow when something – some _one_ – tackled her from behind.

Ensign Meng went sprawling across the soft and spongy grass, the wind knocked out of her in an instant, the communicator flying from her hand. She felt the weight of someone on top of her and struggled to fling them off her to no avail.

“Yer not him,” a familiar yet unfamiliar voice said, and the weight was lifted. Meng rolled onto her side and breathed heaving breaths in, her vision swimming. The person who’d attacked her now towered over her, blocking out the sunlight. Slowly, Meng pulled herself into a sitting position and glared upwards. “Who are…?”

Her mouth dropped open before she could finish her sentence.

Standing above her was Commander Tucker, his blond hair still damp and hanging in front of his face. His blue eyes stared down at her, but they held not one single spark of familiarity.

“Yer not him,” Tucker said again. Meng felt his eyes still watching her as she struggled to her feet. “No,” she gasped out. It was shock that had taken her breath away, not the earlier choking attempt. “No, I’m not… ‘him’. It’s Meng. Ensign Lia Meng.”

“Lia Meng,” Tucker echoed with a head tilt. Meng nodded.

“And you’re Commander Charles Tucker the Third. Apparently, the Captain and First Officer discovered a water-borne pathogen on this planet that is affecting our minds.”

“Hm.”

Meng took that as a sign he was listening. “You guys all went into the water- Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Mayweather, Crewmen Cutler and Fisher. I fell asleep. Do you remember all that?”

For a brief, hopeful moment, Commander Tucker seemed to study her with intent.

Then he said, in a loud and authoritative voice, “I don’t know what yer talkin’ about, Ensign Lia. Tell yer ‘captain’ that he’s got the wrong man.”

Meng stared at him blankly. “Excuse me?” she blurted out. Tucker gave her a roundabout shrug and started to walk away, but she wasn’t letting him escape that easy. “You must’ve been affected,” she told him, knowing her words were falling on deaf ears. “It’s imperative that you stay at the campsite. The Captain-”

Suddenly, Tucker stopped and whirled around, but he wasn’t looking her. Meng followed his gaze, still rather confused.

Lieutenant Reed had somehow appeared and now stood between the two tents. A soft wind blew against tangled brown hair, and his uniform was torn at the sleeve. His blue-grey eyes were cold and blank.

“ _You!_ ” Tucker bellowed, pushing past Meng. Reed startled and glanced around wildly. His eyes drifted right over her and the Commander, but they were unseeing.

Meng could only watch in horror as the Commander grabbed Reed by the collar of his shirt and punched him directly in the face.

“I shoulda known it was you!” Tucker spat. Lieutenant Reed, now sitting on the grass with a hand to his face, only looked around even more wildly. “What the bloody hell?” he muttered, just loud enough that Meng caught it, and it was these words which lurched her into action.

“Hey!” she yelled, cutting in between the Commander and the Lieutenant. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She could get a reprimand for speaking to a superior officer like that, but she didn’t much care. She doubted anyone would remember anyway.

“ _He’s_ the one behind this!” Tucker said. He pointed an accusing finger at Reed. “He did this!”

“Did what?” Meng asked, but the commander didn’t answer. He made a move for the lieutenant, but she planted herself firmly in between them. “Nuh-uh. Sorry, Commander, but I’m afraid you’ll have to stay exactly where you are.”

Whatever pathogen the Captain and the Commander had found in the water was obviously beginning to affect the systems of her fellow shore leave crew. Two of them, anyway. She still had no idea where the others were.

As if on cue, Travis came stumbling out of the woods with a gleeful expression on his face. He ran right into the Ensign’s arms, giggling like a little kid. “They’re coming,” he told her.

“’They’?” The situation with Tucker and Reed was momentarily forgotten. “Who’s ‘they’?”

Travis glanced around like he was about to tell a secret, then he leaned in and whispered loudly, “the sparkling bears.”

Then he skipped off like a happy school child.

“The sparkling bears?” Commander Tucker repeated from behind her. It seemed he’d forgotten about the Lieutenant as well. “Fascinating. Ensign Lia, do you believe these ‘sparkling bears’ could be a codename for the mafia?”

“The _what_?!”

“As we know,” Trip continued, as if he hadn’t heard, “that new street drug is said to have a sparkling affect, and-”

This was _ridiculous._ Half of her wished this was just some ridiculous dream. She had a lot of them.

But this was no dream.

Meng groaned in frustration and reached for her communicator, only to remember that it had been flung out of her hand when Tucker attacked her. Somehow, it had ended up in Lieutenant Reed’s hand. He had it open, the speaker close to his mouth as his eyes flickered around. “Captain,” he whispered.

“Lieutenant?” Meng asked. Perhaps Reed hadn’t been affected by the water. He didn’t seem to be damp in the slightest.

“Captain,” Reed said again, completely ignoring Meng. “I don’t know what’s going on, but… I think the trees are talking to me.”

 _I am never letting myself hope again,_ Meng decided as she snatched the communicator away. “Captain.”

“Ensign Meng?”

“Yes. It appears that Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensign Mayweather are all hallucinating. I have been unable to locate crewmen Cutler and Fisher.”

“T’Pol found their biosigns. They’re coming back towards the campsite” – from god-knows-where – “directly to your left. You should be seeing them momentarily.”

“Are we getting them out soon?” Meng asked, watching Commander Tucker intently in case he decided to attack Reed again.

“Phlox is working on an antidote, but the substance isn’t dangerous and should wear out on its own as long as they are not exposed to water further.”

“Easier said than done,” Meng muttered under her breath.

“What was that, Ensign?”

“Nothing, sir. Just talking to myself. Are you going to transport them up?”

“Phlox recommended against that.” Even the Captain sounded fed up. “Something to due with the chemical imbalance… I don’t know, Ensign. You can ask him yourself when he gets to you.”

“And how long will that be?”

“No more than an hour or two. Sit tight, Ensign. You may use your phase pistol – on stun – if you deem it necessary.”

“Aye, sir.”

The communication terminated and Meng found herself staring at the phase pistol in her right belt clip. She would never have imagined needing to stun her fellow officers- and _superior_ officers at that. Had the Captain suspected they would become violent?

“He’s not wrong,” Meng whispered to herself. She’d have to keep a careful eye on Tucker. Lieutenant Reed appeared to be fine, other than the fact that he thought all of them were trees. At least he was lucid enough to actually remember who he was.

And Travis… Meng sighed and turned towards her fellow Ensign.

“Mayweather, get the hell out of the lake!”

The words were out before she could stop them. Meng quickly darted across the campsite, stopping just short of the shore. She couldn’t go in, or else she’d be affected too. “Ensign Mayweather!” she called. “Get out of the water!”

He wasn’t listening. Mayweather seemed too caught up in having a pool party with his “sparkly bears”.

“I’ve got him,” said a voice from behind, and before Meng could even blink, Crewman Fisher had waded out into the water. He easily pulled Travis back onto shore, where the Ensign pouted like a child. “No fair!” he whined. “I was having fun.”

Perhaps treating them as they were acting was a better tactic than forcing them to remember who they were. She bent down beside Mayweather and offered her best smile. “You have to ask before you go into the water, Ens- erm, Travis.”

Travis narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Can I go into the water?”

“Not right now.”

“No fair!” Travis jumped to his feet and stormed off.

 _How do parents put up with this?_ Meng wondered. She’d decided long ago never to have kids, and this only served to strengthen that decision.

“He’ll be fine,” Crewman Fisher said. He was grinning from ear to ear and dusting his hands off. He was caked head to toe in tree sap and what appeared to be alien pine needles. “Some kids are like that, y’know?”

“Yeah,” said Meng slowly. “Fisher… what happened to you?”

Fisher glanced down at himself like it was his first time seeing his own state. “Oh. I’m not sure actually.” His brow furrowed in concentration. “Me and that other lady… uh, Cutler. Liz. Yes, Liz! We were having a battle.”

“A _battle_?”

“Yes. A battle to the death.”

“To the _death_?!” Meng screeched. Fisher jumped back at her shrill tone.

“Well, not literally!” he insisted. “A figurative battle to the death! It’s a custom in my tradition.”

“Your tradition?” Meng was echoing a lot today. “I thought you were Canadian, and I don’t know of any Canadian cultures which battle to the death.”

Fisher scoffed and gave her a pat on the head. “There are many things you don’t know about me,” he said coyly. Meng swatted his hand away.

“I’m sure.”

How long was she supposed to put up with this? An hour? Maybe she could just stun them all and wait in blissful silence. Yes, that sounded nice…

“Interestin’,” Tucker said out of no where. Meng yelped and opened her eyes, not realizing they were even closed in the first place.

“Your _culture_ sounds very similar to the mafia,” Tucker went on. He leaned right into Fisher’s face; eyes narrowed. “Tell me more about it, if you will.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“ _Detective_ Charles Tucker,” Tucker announced proudly. “The Inspector has me in charge of breakin’ the mafia case wide open, and he done selected the best man fer the job. Have you seen him before?” He stepped to the side and waved a hand in Lieutenant Reed’s direction.

It was at this point that Crewman Cutler came jogging out of the forest. She wasn’t much better than Fisher; her uniform torn and dripping with tree sap; alien pine needles clinging to her head like antennas.

“Look!” she said, pointing up at them. “I’m an Andorian!”

Then she collapsed to her knees in a fit of laughter.

Meng grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “Come on,” she instructed. “We’ll go into the tent. Phlox is coming with an antidote soon.”

“Antidote?” Cutler’s carefree expression suddenly hardened, and she shrugged Meng’s arm off. “Is Phlox one of… _them_?”

“One of what?” Meng sighed, mentally preparing herself for yet another outlandish explanation.

Indeed, it was outlandish, but nothing could prepare her for just _how_ outlandish.

“One of the people who believe in…” Cutler leaned in,” “ _science_.”

“What on Earth is that supposed to mean?” Meng said. “Of course, he _believes_ in science. We all _believe_ in science.”

“Not me.” Cutler glanced at her up and down. “So, you’re one of them, too, then? The science believers?”

“Yes, and so are you.”

“No, I’m _not!_ ” Cutler shrieked. Her voice startled not only a nearby flock of birds, but the other officers as well.

“Science is nothing but a myth!” she went on. She paced back and forth rapidly. “They want you to _think_ it’s real, but I know better!”

“That’s why we had the battle, ma’am,” Crewman Fisher cut in. “You don’t want a rebel like her wandering about.”

“You should be worried about yourselves!” Liz retaliated. “They’ve brainwashed you, but it’s not too late to fight against it.”

“Who brainwashed who?” “Detective” Tucker interjected as smoothly as ever. “The mafia?”

 _Enough with the mafia,_ Ensign Meng growled in her mind. She stepped away from the conversation, letting it all drown out into white noise, and flipped open her communicator. “Captain.”

“Captain Archer is currently unavailable,” Commander T’Pol’s voice floated through. “Is there something you need, Ensign?”

Meng sighed heavily. Great. Just great. “I was wondering how long until Phlox gets here.”

“The answer is the same as when you last called ten minutes ago; he is currently working on an antidote for the pathogen, but he must attend a number of different shore leave groups as well. He will be with you in approximately forty-nine minutes and twenty seconds. T’Pol out.”

Ensign Meng didn’t get the chance to respond before the line clicked dead.

“…and of course, they can’t use the freaking transporter, because of some science or medical related reason, which is just typical for us. Why would the universe let us have it easy when the hard way is right there? 天啊**…”

“Detective” Tucker watched her as she paced back and forth, muttering under her breath.

“You’ll dig a hole in the floor if you keep that up, Ensign Lia,” he finally said. “I know these cases can be tough, ‘specially for a new recruit, but you gotta keep yer head on tight.”

“Right,” Meng responded distantly.

Tucker gestured with his head to the tent that Lieutenant Reed currently occupied. “If you let me question him, I’m sure we’ll get some answers.”

“No questioning,” Meng said firmly. “Cap- er, Inspector wants to question him himself.”

Tucker smirked and leaned back in his chair. “He wants all the glory, does he?”

Meng didn’t have a response to this. Instead, she cleared her throat and turned to the Commander/”Detective”. “I’m gonna go check on the others. Don’t move from this spot.” She paused. “Sir.”

It still felt wrong not to address him as such.

Tucker nodded and held his hands up. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Anyway, neither is _he._ ”

“Detective” Tucker was right about that, at last; Lieutenant Reed had been far from his usual self. He was soft-spoken and downright terrified at times. It had taken forever for Meng to coax him into a tent. He was still convinced those around him were talking trees.

 _I promised I wouldn’t laugh,_ Meng told herself as the image crept up on her.

Ensign Mayweather had taken to sitting on the shore of the lake, staring woefully out across the water. “The bears are playing,” he told Meng as she came close. “Can I go with them?”

“Not yet.” Meng hoped her sickly-sweet tone hid her clenched teeth. “Soon.”

She walked off before Mayweather could ask just _how_ soon.

Fisher and Cutler stayed well away from each other, though Meng caught the glares each threw at the other. “Good day, madam,” Fisher said as the ensign walked past. He made the motion of lifting an imaginary hat.

“I can still help you,” Cutler whispered when Meng came up to her. The tone of her voice made Meng shiver. She really did sound urgent, as if time were running out.

“N-no thanks,” Meng stuttered out. She headed back towards Tucker. Liz followed her.

“There’s a spot in the woods,” she explained. “It’s the ruins of an old temple, and I know if I can just get some help, we could call forth the spirits and release everyone from the delusion.”

 _Sounds like a cult._ Meng snuck a look at her watch. Three-thirty ship time, which meant she still had a half hour to wait. Why was time going so slow?

Suddenly, Ensign Mayweather came running up to her and grabbed her arm. “Shiny!” he exclaimed, eyeing the watch. “It’s sparkly. Like the bears.”

“Sure,” Meng said flatly. “Whatever you say.” She couldn’t keep up the mother-like charade for long- for the sake of both her sanity and her pride.

Before she could react, Travis had torn her watch off her wrist and hurled it as far as he could into the water.

“Hey!” Meng lunged forward but her watch as already long gone; merely a glimmer and a splash as it slowly sunk to the bottom. Beside her, Travis was frowning. “All sparkly things belong to the bears,” he said ominously.

Meng decided not to press further and hurried back to “Detective” Tucker. Of all of them, Tucker was the one she felt safest around, despite his tendency to accuse everyone of being part of “the mafia”. She would talk to Lieutenant Reed, maybe try to convince him of their current situation- he was definitely the most lucid – but she wasn’t sure just how much luck she’d have. And despite what she’d thought about Tucker, she couldn’t have him thinking she was his “enemy”.

“Ensign Lia,” he greeted as she sat down on the grass. “Find out anythin’ useful from our suspects?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a shame. Ah, well. Inspector’ll have ‘em crack in no time. What d’you say to a little drink?”

He began to reach for a fresh bottle of beer in the cooler, but Meng shook her head. “I don’t, uh, drink on duty.”

“Who’s gonna tell?” Tucker winked and threw the bottle at her, which she was just barely able to catch. _Could have killed me!_ she exclaimed in her mind.

She opened the bottle and pretended to take a sip, which is when her communicator beeped.

“Ensign Meng here.”

“Good news, Ensign,” came the Captain’s voice, “we are proceeding ahead of schedule. Phlox and the medics are on their way back to Enterprise now with the first group of people. You’ll be second, so hang tight.”

“Affirmative, sir.”

“Thanks, Ensign. Archer out.”

Tucker watched her between narrowed blue eyes. “That the Inspector?”

“I thought you’d recognize his voice.”

“He doesn’t speak to me. I get his orders through a third party.”

“Who?”

Tucker gestured to Reed without a word. Meng looked over her shoulder at the Lieutenant, then back at the Commander. “Then why is he your… enemy?”

“He gave me false instructions,” “Detective” Tucker said. “He’s a traitor.”

Knowing just how close Tucker and Reed are, Meng found it hard to believe either could consider the other a traitor, even if it is under the affect of some water-pathogen-hallucination. Still, she didn’t push the conversation. Her gaze moved up to the clear blue sky, anticipating the arrival of a shuttlepod containing Phlox. She let her shoulders relax for a minute…

It seemed no matter what, Reed was a master at stealth. It took Meng two minutes to realize he was missing, and it took “Detective” Tucker even less.

“He’s escaped,” Tucker said through gritted teeth. “Gone back to sell our information.”

Meng ignored him. “Lieutenant?” she called. Damnit, how could she have allowed herself to turn her back on him? On _any_ of them, for that matter. Whether she felt comfortable or not didn’t matter; with everyone else unable to function normally, _she’d_ been the ranking officer. _She_ was in charge.

_And a damn good job you’re doing, Lia._

Cutler and Fisher wandered over at the commotion, but it was Travis who spotted him.

“He’s up there!” he exclaimed, pointing up at one of the trees. Almost in sync, everyone’s head tilted back, their eyes settling on where Lieutenant Reed clinging to the base of the tree for dear life. His grey eyes were still blank and emotionless.

“Lieutenant?” Meng called up. Reed’s gaze snapped downwards. “Go away,” he yelled back. “I don’t know what you are but stay away.”

“Yer not gettin’ off that easy,” Tucker said. “We’ll find yer friends, and then you’ll be in trouble.”

“You’re not finding them,” Reed replied. “They’re long gone. They won’t come back for me.”

“They won’t have to.” Tucker’s voice was uncharacteristically cold. “We’ll track ‘em down and find ‘em ourselves.”

“You’ll never find them. They’re light-years away from this system by now.”

“What’s a light-year?” Liz asked brightly.

“There’s no way they’d come back for me!” Reed continued. His voice turned insistent and almost frantic. “I’m disposable.”

The true meaning of his words finally sunk in, and Meng felt her heart clench.

“You’re not disposable!” she called up at the Lieutenant. “Phlox is on his way down here. You’ll be fine- all of you will be fine.”

A pause. “Ensign Meng?” Reed said quietly. “Is that you?”

She couldn’t stop the smile from creeping along her face. “Yes!” Were the effects wearing off, then?

“You’re a tree,” said Reed dumbly. Meng opened her mouth but found no suitable reply to this. The Lieutenant continued anyway. “You’re a… tree person, I believe. We didn’t know this planet was habitable. Why have you taken the voice of one of my ensigns?”

_So much for the effects wearing off._

“Just come down and I’ll explain everything,” Meng said. When that didn’t work, she tried, “you’ve climbed onto one of my friends and if you don’t get down, he will eat you.”

A look of disbelief crossed Reed’s face, but he carefully slid off his perch anyway. Meng snickered. Now _there’s_ a story to tell at dinner parties. _“I got my hallucinating superior officer to come down from a tree when I told him it would eat him”._

Reed was maybe five metres off the ground when the branch beneath his foot snapped.

Meng lunged forward to catch him just as Tucker did the same, and she was thrown out of the way by his much taller frame. For a moment a sense of horror enveloped her; watching her commanding officer falling uncontrollably and a man who thought himself his _enemy_ running forward all the while she’d let her guard down.

Then Commander Tucker caught Reed, breaking his fall, and the two of them crashed to the ground with a series of groans.

Meng scuttled to her feet and quickly jogged over to them, hand on her communicator. “Are you okay?” she blurted. “Both of you?”

Tucker grimaced. “Aside from a few bruises, ma’am, I’d say we’re a’right.”

Reed shot up into a sitting position, wincing, but nodded in agreement. “The Trip tree is right. Nothing feels broken.”

“Thank god,” Meng sighed. She turned to face the other three, who’d been watching with odd fascination. Fisher and Cutler had resorted into a science argument yet again that Meng didn’t want to even _touch_ right now. Travis seemed to have developed a very short attention span since the water pathogen hit, and now skipped in circles, talking to “sparkly bears” only he could see.

It was hard to believe this was becoming normal. Ensign Meng knew a mission in deep space meant a lot of unknowns- a lot of uncertainties and unforeseeable dangers, but she’d never considered hallucinogenic water pathogens to be one of them.

Her sister would be absolutely _fascinated_ by it all.

“On yer feet.” “Detective” Tucker was back, practically dragging the confused and now slightly injured Reed back to the prison tent. Both of them limped painfully. Meng couldn’t yet rule out the possibility of a concussion, but her expertise lay with security, not medial. The only thing they could do was sit back and wait for Phlox.

Speaking of Phlox, where was he? She looked up at the sky but saw no hint of metal glinting in the sun. Should she page the Captain? No, he’d start to get annoyed if she called a fifth time. Besides, it would give the impression she was unprepared for command situations.

Am _I unprepared?_ Meng found herself wondering. _It’s like herding cats here, and I’m not doing a very good job of it. Lieutenant Reed fell out of a tree and crash-landed on the Commander; Ensign Mayweather threw my watch into a lake; I think Cutler and Fisher may have fought at some point._ She glanced back down. Neither showed any sign of injures as far as she could tell.

 _Or whatever “battle” it was Fisher mentioned. Why did_ I _have to be the one not affected?_

Meng was drawn back to reality by the sound of a blow landing, and her first instinct was to look at Tucker, but the Commander was sitting in his chair innocently drinking his beer. Reed was back inside the tent.

Meng turned around and realized it was Fisher and Mayweather who were fighting. _Are the gods just messing with me now?_ she thought, exhausted.

“Oi, break it up!” Meng shoved herself between the two men. “Break it _up_.”

“He insulted the bears,” Travis exclaimed, and Meng realized tears streaked down his face. “No one insults the bears!”

“What bears?” Fisher retaliated. “There are no bears as far as I can see, kid.”

This only made Travis angrier, and the ensign’s fist connected with Fisher’s throat before anyone could move.

Fisher stumbled backwards, choking at the sudden blow. Meng shoved Mayweather back a little harsher than necessary and he, too, went sprawling across the ground.

“This calls- _eurgh._ ” Fisher struggled to catch his breath; his voice hoarse. “This calls… for a battle to the death!”

“No!” Meng cried. “No battles.” _Lord, give me a fucking break._ “If I hear one more fight, one more commotion…”

 _You’ll do what?_ her mind taunted. _Give them a time-out? Make them think about their actions? Stun them?_

Fortunately, she never had to continue, because suddenly there was a shuttlepod overhead and Meng felt relief flood through her like a tsunami. “About time,” she muttered, and watched as Doctor Phlox and his army of medics stepped onto the open plain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"Tiān a", a Chinese exclamation basically saying "oh my god".


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmm POV change.

Trip had a splitting headache when he woke up. A groan escaped between his clenched teeth and he opened his eyes, but his vision was as fuzzy as his brain felt. He had a hunch he was in sickbay, but everything after the Captain’s last correspondence was just gone. He couldn’t imagine how he got here, never mind _why._

“Ah, commander. You’re awake!” Phlox’s usual cheery voice ricocheted around his skull, only making the headache worse.

Trip placed two lazy hands over his ears and muttered, “quiet.”

“Yes, you’ll be experiencing sensitive hearing right about now,” the doctor went on. “You’ll also experience headaches, nausea, and confusion. That’s all normal and part of the healing process.”

Everything in space seemed to be “normal”, Trip thought.

“Wha’ happened?” the commander asked. His own voice surprised him- he sounded utterly drunk. “I thought we were on shore leave.”

“You were, but T’Pol and the Captain discovered that the planet’s water contained a hallucinogenic pathogen. Not anything dangerous, but we were concerned. I examined this pathogen and made the determination that using the transporter device would be unsafe for those affected.”

“’course you did.”

Phlox didn’t seem to hear him. “We had to come down and collect the affected groups by shuttlepod. In most parties, no more than one or two were affected, but your party was located close to a lake.”

“We went swimmin’,” Trip breathed. He opened his eyes, the light no longer unbearably sharp. “Me an’ Malcolm an’ Cutler...”

“Mhm,” said Phlox from some unseen corner of the room. “Ensign Meng told me she’d been sleeping at the time. She was the only one in your group unaffected by the pathogen.”

Trip frowned as the memories came rushing back, as patchy and incomplete as they were. “I began to get… suspicious about somethin’. An’ I think Travis was talkin’ to things that weren’t there. An’ Fisher… got angry.

“Cap’n called and I told him everythin’ was great, but everythin’ wasn’t great.”

There came a rustle from beside him and Trip turned his head. His vision still blurred around the edges, but he was pretty sure the person lying in the bed next to him was Malcolm.

“Bloody hell,” said the person, confirming Trip’s suspicion. “I feel like I’ve been chewed up and spat out by some… giant alien dog.”

“A colourful metaphor.” Phlox trotted over and pushed the Lieutenant back down as he started to lift himself up. “Lie still. You need to rest. According to the ensign, you fell out of a tree.”

“A _tree_?” Malcolm repeated in horror. “I don’t remember that.”

“I do,” Trip said with a wince, the memory coming back. “You fell on top of _me._ That explains why I hurt all over.”

“You will remember with time,” Phlox assured them. “From what I’ve gathered, all of you had quite the, erm, _adventure,_ shall I say.”

“More like a misadventure, doctor.”

Trip’s head flung the other way, his eyes locking on the fuzzy but recognizable shape of Travis Mayweather.

“I already remember a bit, and I’m not sure I really _want_ to know the rest,” the ensign continued. Trip grinned.

“That bad?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

After a few minutes, Trip’s skull splitting headache finally became nothing more than a dull throb, and he attempted to sit up. A new wave of nausea flooded over him and Doctor Phlox came rushing forward with a large bowl, but Trip waved him off. “’m fine.” The nausea dissipated a few seconds later.

Malcolm, a stubborn man as always, was already attempting to wriggle out of bed. Phlox pin-ponged around to his side in moments, pushing the Lieutenant back down yet again.

“You’ll all be released within the hour,” the doctor promised the group of delirious crew members. “I just need to make sure the substance is completely gone from your systems.”

Now that his vision was finally clear- or, clear _er_ , rather -Trip could fully survey the extent of this apparent pathogen’s effects.

All eight beds in sickbay were occupied and then some. Trip noticed a pair of crewmen using a nearby wall to keep themselves upright; a medic fussing over them. He quickly did the math in his mind. _Five groups of six or seven, approximately forty people. One or two affected in each group, plus the five of us… goddamn, that makes close to twelve patients, give or take._

He glanced to Phlox, but the doctor, to his credit, kept his cheerful demeanor intact as he bounced between patients. Some must have been released earlier, Trip surmised.

“Commander?”

Trip turned towards Malcolm with an expectant eyebrow raise. “D’we look on duty t’ you?”

“Trip,” Malcolm corrected. “I’m afraid I just had a rather… distressing memory come to me.”

The eyebrow went higher. “How so?”

Malcolm fidgeted, very much unlike him. Malcolm didn’t fidget. “I, erm, seem to have a recollection of you… hitting me.” Then he winced, as if he expected a blow.

Trip sat frozen with his mouth hanging open. “I _hit_ ya?” he repeated. “Goddamn… I-I’m sorry, Malcolm, I wa’n’t myself.”

“No kidding,” Malcolm snorted. “I also recall my confusion when all of you turned into trees and began talking to me.”

Trip blinked. “Come again?”

But Malcolm just gave him a sly shrug and rolled onto his side.

“Well, ya can’t jus’ say somethin’ like that and not continue!” Trip exclaimed. “You thought we were _trees_?!”

“At least it’s better than running around screaming ‘ _science is a myth_ ’,” Liz Cutler sighed from across the room. She was already on her feet, apparently trying to help Phlox and his patients. “And, apparently, partaking in a ‘battle to the death’ with Crewman Fisher.”

All eyes turned to the crewman, who had begun to blush a deep red. “I-I swear, I don’t know what I was thinking,” the Canadian insisted.

Captain Archer walked in with T’Pol trailing just behind, rescuing Fisher from an awkward explanation. “How’re they doing, doc?” the Captain asked.

Phlox set down the PADD he was tapping away on and smiled brightly. “All good here, Captain. The last of them are just waking up now. I’ve sent Hart and Dillard back to their quarters, and the rest will be following along shortly.”

“That’s good to hear.” Archer took a step towards Trip and smiled. “How are we feeling, Commander?”

“Like shit.”

“No different than usual, then,” mumbled Malcolm. Trip waved a fist at him jokingly but stopped himself when he saw the Lieutenant flinch. _Right. I punched him, didn’t I?_

“We’re all a bit confused, honestly, Cap’n,” Trip said. “There’s an hour or so of memories missing from my brain, and apparently we did some… questionable things down there.”

Archer smirked. “Your memories should come back on their own with enough time, and I’m sure Ensign Meng will satisfy any further curiosities you may have regarding what happened.”

“Actually, Captain,” Phlox interjected, “I’ve taken the liberty of releasing Ensign Meng from duties for the rest of the day, along with Ensign Soccoro and Lieutenant Willis. The three of them showed signs of exhaustion and irritation. I do not advise interaction until tomorrow, at the very least.”

“Alright, Phlox.” Archer nodded slowly. “We’ll leave them alone. Will the pathogen have any lingering effects on the crew?”

“None,” Phlox reported happily. “Although, I highly advise each of them shower when they return to quarters, just to make sure.”

“No arguments here,” Fisher called. Trip only then realized that the crewman was almost completely covered in tree sap. Just what the hell happened down there?

A memory hit Trip suddenly: he was sitting on one of the portable chairs while Ensign Meng sat on the grass. He’d pulled out a beer and thrown it towards the Ensign.

 _Well,_ Trip said, _I guess I’ll get that question answered real soon._

Meng snuggled deeper under her pile of blankets, trying to ignore the insistent beeping at her computer. She just wanted to _sleep,_ for god’s sake. Her energy was all but drained and even walking felt heavy, which is why she hadn’t had a shower the moment she got back to her quarters.

_Beep._

With a loud groan, Meng flung off her blankets and stumbled for her desk. “What is it now…?”

A message alert blinked across her screen, but not from anyone on board. The address was in Virginia, U.S.A. Her sister Suyin must have sent it- she was stationed there for a biology project. Meng clicked it open.

_Dear Lia,_

_I hope you are faring well out there. Things are pretty boring out here. We’re attempting to identify a new species of deep water squid we discovered, but I suppose you don’t want to hear about that! How are things going up on the_ Enterprise _? Interesting, I’d wager?_

Meng grinned and said aloud, “you have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what this fic even was, but thanks for readin'


End file.
